


Tabby

by 8LunaFortuna8



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Headcanon, M/M, Protective Crowley, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), crowley has a soft spot for kids, smol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 13:02:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20046472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8LunaFortuna8/pseuds/8LunaFortuna8
Summary: This started as a sit-bolt-upright-in-bed headcannon so I wrote a short short piece about it because it's cutesy.It began as Crowley has a soft spot for kids == Crowley can't keep himself from visiting kids in the cancer ward == what if there's one who has no family and is all alone in the hospital dying of leukemia and all she HAS is Crowley holy shit





	Tabby

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, all! I said I was working on a new piece and it's nearly finished! It's clocking in around 30k words like my last big project but this one is a *whopper*, there's just a bit of editing to finish up but it will be worth the wait, I promise you!!! Here's something soft and angsty to tide you over.

Tabitha Drescoll was ever so tired. She’d been a patient at St. Bart’s all her life and even though seven years wasn’t comparatively a very long time, it felt like an eternity. Tabby’s Wednesday nurse, Olivia, passed by the room and poked her head in. “Need anything, sweetie?” Tabby shook her head, but her melancholy must have shown through a little. 

Olivia smiled. “Want me to text AJ? See if he can come for a bit?” Tabitha’s face lit up and she nodded.

Crowley was hiding something and Aziraphale was determined to find out what. Aside from performing the odd bit of evil (Crowley’s idea of “evil”, meaning gluing coins to sidewalks) he really didn’t go dashing off anymore. Except for someone who texted him once or twice a month. Crowley’s phone would vibrate, he would glance at it, and then he’d make some cheap excuse and take off in the Bentley. Sometimes he’d be gone for hours and even once or twice, days at a time. Zira even caught a glimpse of one of these forbidden text messages once-- it was from someone called Olivia in Crowley’s phone and it simply read “Need you”. 

He couldn’t possibly be seeing someone, could he? What else could explain the odd text from a woman Az didn’t know, a text that sent Crowley running for his car? 

When Aziraphale called Anathema about possibly working a tracking spell for him, she was glad this was a phone conversation because she couldn’t hold back the urge to roll her eyes. “Just track his phone, Aziraphale. It’s not difficult, Newt could tell you how to do it.” 

From the kitchen, Newt called back, “I could but the phone may explode.” Anathema rolled her eyes once more. “Say, how would you ‘track’ his phone?” Aziraphale said. This was a celestial being taking a phone call on an antique phone.

“Okay, do you have an android or an Iphone?” Anathema said, grabbing Newt’s phone for reference. Anathema suddenly smacked her palm to her forehead, recalling a prophecy about this exact detail of Aziraphale’s shop. “You don’t have a smart phone, do you?”

“Well,” Aziraphale said, looking down at his rotary phone lovingly, “I got this one not too long ago, just six or seven decades past and it was on sale-” 

“Aziraphale, focus. Now what’s Crowley’s phone number?” Anathema interrupted. Zira relayed the information and waited with baited breath. “He’s at St. Bartholomew's Hospital. Do you know someone there?” The angel frowned on the other end of the line.

“No, I don’t believe so. Still, if that is where he is, that is where I shall go. Thank you, Ms. Device, it is always a pleasure.”  
“It’s Mrs. Pulsifer now. Take care, Aziraphale.” 

Aziraphale found himself stepping out of a cab in front of St. Bart’s. Whatever could Crowley be dong here? 

With no idea where to start looking, the angel wandered the lobby helplessly, letting himself take in the surroundings and even browse the little shop they had (so people could shop). Aziraphale noticed that several of the staff were whispering and pointing in his direction, so he approached one of the nurses in the hopes that they knew where he needed to be. 

“Excuse me, madam, I’m looking for-”  
“AJ? You’re AJ’s husband, aren’t you?” the nurse said, lowering her clipboard and looking him up and down.  
“I- I’m sorry, I’m not sure who-”  
“He’s up on the 9th floor, children’s ward. Room 206,” the nurse replied, turning to leave the desk and hurry off to wherever she needed to be next. Aziraphale's brow’s knitted together but he followed the nurse’s instructions and took the elevator to floor nine. The walls were decorated with clowns and circus animals but the mood of the place was generally very grim. 

202, 204… 206. There it was. Aziraphale gulped and knocked on the door. A high voice called from inside, “Come in!”

Aziraphale pushed open the door gently and stepped inside. A girl of about six or seven sat in a hospital bed with a book propped open on her lap. “Sorry, my dear, I was just looking for-” Aziraphale’s voice disappeared as he noticed what book she was holding. 

“Where did you get that?” the angel said, pointing at the book.  
“My friend AJ brought it to me. It’s my favorite book.” she said, closing it and stroking the cover. It was a second edition of Wuthering Heights and it had an easily identifiable red wine stain on the corner of the front cover; it had gone missing from Zira’s book shop several years ago. 

“AJ?” Aziraphale said.  
“And you’re Aziraphale, aren’t you?” she said knowledgeably.  
“Hn- wh- ho- did-” Az stammered, mouth falling open.  
“AJ told me all about you. I’ve always wanted to meet you, but he always said you were busy. He should be back soon. Sit down.” 

Aziraphale was so confused and upset that he did, taking the chair by her bed. “You really do have a wonderful collection.” the little girl said, holding up the book again. 

“So-- AJ. Who is AJ?” Aziraphale managed, sitting forward in the chair. The little girl laughed.  
“Your husband, silly.” 

“All right, Tibby Tabby, I’ve found them. It only took three sweet shops, but-” Crowley stared at Tabby and Aziraphale and they stared back. Crowley was holding a box of chocolates and a large plush lion. The silence stretched a little too long before Crowley said, “Aziraphale?” 

“Crowley.”  
“Crowley?” Tabby said, wrinkling her nose. Crowley glanced between Tabby and Zira and back again.  
“Sometimes.” Crowley shrugged and walked over to the bed, setting the chocolates and the stuffed animal down on the bed in front of Tabby. Tabitha reached her arms out for Crowley and he hesitated, looking at Aziraphale. Az cocked an eyebrow. Crowley climbed onto the bed and pulled the small girl into his lap as she picked up the chocolates. 

“You really found them!”  
“Your favorites,” Crowley said fondly, his eyes still locked on Aziraphale, daring him to say something. Az only smiled at him softly. This was proof. Real proof that Crowley was good and Crowley was sure to get upset if he said something so he didn’t. 

“So however did you two meet?” Aziraphale said.  
Before the demon could say anything for himself, Tabby said, “Wellllllll,” the way children do before long-winded stories. 

“I was found in a dumpster when I was just a baby. Apparently some kid’s nanny was passing by and heard me crying so she brought me here so I would be okay. But she had to move away so she asked AJ to look after me whenever he could and now we’re like, basically best friends.” Tabby said, popping a chocolate into her mouth. She twisted around in Crowley’s lap to press one of the candies to his lips with her tiny fingers. Crowley opened his mouth obediently and ate the chocolate, pushing some of the hair out of Tabby’s face. 

The angel and the demon stayed another few hours (promising to come back the next day, Aziraphale holding onto a list of books he thought might suit Tabby) before heading down to Crowley’s Bentley and driving back to the bookshop. Crowley didn’t say anything and Aziraphale didn’t press. Instead, Zira twined his fingers in Crowley’s and gave them a reassuring squeeze. With that little motion, Crowley relaxed back into his seat and everything was all right again.


End file.
